


Triage

by GhostHost



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: First Aid meets an odd MTO, Then the renamed Ambulon meets First Aid, then they date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:27:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostHost/pseuds/GhostHost
Summary: Before Delphi, First Aid took a shot at trying to turn a Decepticon MTO.





	Triage

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a bunch of Ambulon prompts! Spoilers, for anyone who doesn't know, J-RO is supposedly rolling with Ambulon's original name being Thunderclash so I took the opportunity to use that. 
> 
> Warnings: Aftermath of battles, the general gross stuff that tends to come with MTOS, abandonment, mentions of death and devastation, mention/hints of medical horror? Whatever you'd classify forcing someone to be a leg as. As always, mention something you want added, etc, etc.

Triage

* * *

 

The sky was raining MTO’s.

First Aid avoided them as much as he could, mentally criticizing the Decepticons for dropping what was clearly newly made mechs dead into a war zone from a ship that was way too high. Most of them weren’t even making it to the ground. Just sickening screams and crunches, short lives burned out all too fast.

He had a job to do though, so he did it.

Field medic was a dangerous position. It wasn’t even his, but one did what they had to in war. Half his unit was on the other side of the battle field, and so was most of their guard, but First Aid wasn’t worried about getting back. The battle had already fizzled out. All that was left the was MTOs and the few stragglers trying to get back to their ships.

Wasn’t worried until he finally gave up on the mech he’d been trying to treat and looked up, into the center of a gun.The mech holding it was shaking so badly the gun itself was almost never actually pointed at 'Aid, fear radiating off his field in waves.

He was painted a deep, dark purple, same as all the other mechs who’d been falling from the sky, though his was streaked with dirt and a number of scratches and tears that went all the way down to his protoform.

Not even functional for five minutes and already in a world of pain. First Aid sympathized.

“Hey.” He said, keeping his voice low. “Are you alright?”

The mech frowned at him, but made no move to fire the gun.

“I’m a medic.” First Aid made a show of slowly tapping the cross on his chest. “Is your vocalizer damaged? Do you need something looked at?”

The mech stared at him blankly. In shock, no doubt.

‘Thunderclash’ was sloppily painted down the mech’s arm, continuing the mocking trait of naming MTO’s after famous Autobots. ‘Aid had passed five dead ‘Ultra Magnus’s’ already.

The ‘Con of course, wouldn’t know that. He’d just think it was his name.

He likely didn’t know he was supposed to die in some sick attempt to scare the Autobots off, either.

“Thunderclash right?” First Aid said, rising slowly. “I’m First Aid. Here--let me help you.”

It was a well known fact that ‘Con MTOs these days were given such little information that you could easily turn one if you reached it before the enemy did. It always made people nervous to do so, but 'Aid wasn’t the kind to turn them down just because they’d been created by the wrong side.

Not when the ‘Cons clearly meant for them to die.

Thunderclash at least, he might be able to help.

The mech let him approach, only lowering his gun when ‘Aid was past it. The medic calmly explained what he was doing before he did it, and with minimal flinching, Thunderclash accepted the help. As he worked, ‘Aid did his best to give a quick background on the war--and where they currently where, what they were all doing.

“I knew that.” Thunderclash croaked, minutes after ‘Aid had managed to reset his vocalizer.

“Good.” 'Aid said, smiling at him. “I’d ask you what else you know, but I’m afraid we don’t have time. Why don’t you come along with me?” He held out his hand, and with it, sent a short distance, open link containing the information a mech would need to go ahead and deflect.

Thunderclash accepted it, but paused, clearly torn. ‘Aid let him think--he wasn’t sure how strong the loyalty coding was that Thunderclash had been stuck with. Sometimes it was none but there were a few ‘Cons who stuck truly aggressive coding with their MTOs after they discovered the Autobots were stealing them.

“I--” Thunderclash started, seconds before an explosion hit.

First Aid tumbled to the ground, Thunderclash thrown behind him, as more lit up the area. Yelling started immediately after that, along with gunfire. Some of it was close--too close, almost on top of them--causing dirt and shrapnel to leap into the air.

It was a mess from there.

First Aid called out to Thunderclash twice, both times unanswered. The battle had resurrected, literally on top of them, and he’d needed all his wits just to survive it, unable to go looking for the MTO he’d been separated from.

All he could do was hope that Thunderclash had survived too--and that he thought hard on ‘Aids offer.

 

xXx

Smoke made the streets hazy. The silence made it eerie. More than that though, the time that had passed made it safe. Half the buildings no longer existed, hell the makeshift med tent they had set up in the middle of it all no longer existed!

Once again, First Aid was faced with the horror of starting over.

This time, he thought a touch hysterical, looking at the partial remains of his mentor, by himself.

The silence had taken over for long enough that he finally felt safe to walk into the open. To come out of the whole he’d jumped into at the end, priorities shifting and falling until the only thing left was a desire to survive. His scattered, shell shocked thoughts ran through his routines, what he should be doing. When that failed, he went to what he could be doing.

‘Aid took a vent, the sound seemingly thunderous. Nothing came after him though. No Decepticon appeared.

 _‘Survivors.’_ He thought numbly. He could look for survivors.

He went on to do just that.

Four hours later and he thought he was finally getting somewhere. He hadn’t been in the center of the attacks, hadn’t been in the worst of the destruction. He’d been close though, and not a whole lot around him had survived. He didn’t bother with the dead bodies. Didn’t even bother with the dying. He checked on them of course, struggled to see if there was any he could save, but each and every one only cemented the facts.

He had no supplies. No equipment. No medical tent or method to move anyone.

And he was alone.

_'Alone, alone alone.'_

A noise sounded in the distance, making him flinch. Curiosity and desperation drove him towards it though, and First Aid put himself in the shadows until the sounds dissolved into words.

“If you can hear me, come towards my voice!” The sound was saying, and ‘Aid recognized the tone of a projector--a built in device medics used to be heard over loud noises. Which meant the person calling was a medic.

Spark spinning fast, ‘Aid opened up his emergency comms, the ones that purely identified him as a medic and masked everything else--and sent a ping.

An Autobot signal came back.

First Aid broke into a sprint.

“Here!” He called, starting a back and forth with the voice. It didn’t take long to pinpoint it, and soon he had visuals. A crowd of broken and lost looking mechs, most standing around, some holding up others centered around an overturned transport vehicle. A few medics darted among the crowd, their white and red plating making them easy to identify.

When Aid drew closer, he once again sent out the signal identifying him as a medic.

“What can I do?” He asked, pulling up.

“Talk to Ambulon.” The medic he’d grabbed replied, in the blunt, determined manner of all medics in the midst of an emergency. “He’s up on the transport.”

That was easy enough to locate, though once ‘Aid approached, the mech made his way down, off the transport.

“That’s it!” He called, prompting a new round of hustling.

“Are you going out to search?” First Aid asked, taking in the mech before him. He looked eerily similar, and not in the way all medics often did. The splotchy paint job was confusing him though--he got the feeling he’d know exactly who this was if it wasn’t for it.

“No.” Ambulon said. Quieter, he added; “My unit picked up Decepticon signals while on our way here. There’s a second wave of them coming. You were the last person we were waiting for before pulling out.”

Which meant this wasn’t the start of a search and rescue, wasn’t the beginning of recovery.

This was a triage at its most basic, brutal elements.

First Aid didn’t react, even as chills raced down his spine. If he hadn’t gone in the direction he had, if he hadn’t heard Ambulon’s voice when he did…

He’d have been caught up in the next attack.

“Can you help Hotwire and Reload put those who need assistance in the ground transports?” Ambulon was saying. First Aid nodded along, quickly noting who Ambulon pointed to when he said the other medics names.

“Of course.” He said, snapping straight into work mode. They weren’t out of the woods yet. He didn’t know if they had a ship tucked away somewhere or where the ground transports were running to, but he knew if nothing else, he’d be going with them.

Trying to save lives until his own ran out.

“Thanks…?” Ambulon said, and it took him a moment to realize the mech was asking for his name.

“First Aid.” He said.

Recognition flashed in  Ambulon’s optics, seeming to stun him for a moment. First Aid cataloged it, then mentally shoved it away.

He could figure out how they knew each other later, after they had fled.

xXx

Ambulon hadn’t thought he was going to survive long enough to date.

Once he had, he hadn’t thought anyone would ever return his interest. He was--damaged. Emotionally, physically, mentally. Paranoia was a long time friend of his, his paint job gave him the appearance of someone who couldn’t take care of themselves and the fact he turned into a _leg_ basically made him a monoformer.

Add in the fact that he was a _traitor_ on top of all of that, and he’d long ago realized he was going to die alone.

Which made this all the more painful.

“Stop.” He said, trying to get the words out while his emotions choked him. “Just--stop.”

“What’s wrong?” First Aid asked, concerned.

Like he didn’t know.

“I don’t know who put you up to this,” Ambulon said, voice turning into a pained hiss, “--but I thought you were better than that.” Thought he knew 'Aid better than that, but that was too painful to think about right now. 

“I don’t- _-oh_. No!” First Aid said tripping over his words, optics widening enough to distort his visor. “I wasn’t, I didn’t--”

“I don’t care.” Ambulon spat, truly angry now. He didn’t trust a lot of people. Even now, with all the time he’d spent in the Autobots,  his list was frighteningly short--and First Aid topped it.

Had always topped it. From the very beginning. 

 _‘You should have seen this coming.’_ He thought to himself, thinking on how he and ‘Aid had grown closer. How ‘Aid had suddenly made a point to talk to him more the last few weeks. To hang out with him. _‘You should be used to betrayal.’_

Because Shockwave had been right, all those years ago. He could hide behind his status as a medic all he liked, but his true use was being a leg, not a person.

Never a person--because he was an MTO. 

This though--this _hurt._ Worse than he’d ever imagined. Because it wasn’t anyone else. It was First Aid. The person who’d helped him in the beginning. His entire reason for defecting. His reason, for a stupidly long time, for _living._

“Ambulon.” First Aid tried again. He took a step forward, reaching out, but stopped when Ambulon flinched away.

“Leave.” Ambulon said, fury and hurt fighting in his field, as he struggled to hold it in. To not show his _best fucking friend_ how much damage his little joke had caused.

 _“Thunderclash.”_ First Aid said, and it startled them both. It was the first time he had ever said it, ever admitted that he knew who Ambulon was. That he remembered their first meeting. “I was serious. I would _never_ ask you out as a joke. You know me better than that.”

Ambulon just stared at him.

Hesitantly, carefully, ‘Aid tried to get closer again. One step, then another, until he was well within Ambulon’s personal space. Projecting every move, giving his friend and coworker every chance to get away, he reached out to grasp Ambulon’s hand.

“I want to go on a date with you.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to say yes. You don’t have to feel the same way about me. But I wanted you to know how I feel.” He looked into the other medic’s optics, knowing he was close enough for Ambulon to see through his visor.

“I have had a crush on you ever since you showed up on Delphi.” He said seriously.

Ambulon laughed. It was the hysterical kind, that bubbled up out of his chest and ripped its way out of his mouth. “You did not.” He said, in-between it.

First Aid smiled under his mask. “I did

“I--” Ambulon said, then stopped. The laughter slowly died, and what was left was a mech who looked just as lost as when ‘Aid had first met him, injured on a battlefield, pointing a gun at an Autobot because it was the only thing he’d been told to do.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. We can go back to being friends. But I would be honored if you gave me a chance.” 'Aid continued. It was important to him not to push this. Important to give his friend an out--because he’d never been sure how Ambulon would react to this. To how much he was wanted.

Changing things just a touch--’Aid let a little bit of that out into his field. Let it reach out and touch.

The shocked reaction, the quiet gasp was worth it.

Just as it was worth it when Ambulon, after a long, long moment, said okay.


End file.
